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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671686">elemental sound (running underneath it all)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_urchin/pseuds/that_one_urchin'>that_one_urchin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Legacies (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:21:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_urchin/pseuds/that_one_urchin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope and Josie are inseparable best friends, practically attached at the hip. That is, until Hope forgets to show up for their planned road trip on July 4th, and their friendship unravels completely.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Landon Kirby/Hope Mikaelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>283</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a song you know<br/>If you listen close<br/>It will always be<br/>As it always was (as it always was, as it always was)<br/>Elemental sound<br/>Running underneath it all<br/>- To the Wonder, Aqualung</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s late in May when their junior year comes to a much-appreciated end, the first few hours of the summer setting in. It’s already unreasonably hot out and Hope is itching to set her feet in the lake. She rushes by Josie, laughing freely, shedding her clothes on the dock and doing a front flip into the water that effectively splashed Josie. This is a routine they’ve been through over and over, a time-honored tradition that goes all the way back to childhood, when Josie was too young to know how to swim and Hope always stuck close to her to help her float. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope emerges from the water feeling immensely relieved, the coolness of the lake, the absence of classes or responsibilities, and Josie’s presence all aiding to the growing peace in her chest. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Show off.” Josie quips, not yet in the water, still sliding her skirt down long legs. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope does a quick once-over of Josie’s body. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Come on, grandma.” She smirks as she notices the offended pout on Josie’s face. Josie lowers herself into the lake slowly, the water swallowing her up to her ribs. “Hurry up.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie splashes her in the face, forcing a mouthful of lake water into Hope’s mouth. Hope’s tongue tastes faintly of salt and slime, and she can’t stop a gulp from reflexively going down her throat. She makes a disgusted face as soon as it goes down, her features pinching, and chases after Josie for revenge. Josie swims away from her, giggling, dodging Hope’s hands whenever she gets too close. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They scramble after each other, gliding back and forth through the water, switching between being chased and chasing. An hour passes of childishly horsing around and dunking their heads beneath the surface, half-pretending to drown each other, before they get tired of it. At some point, Hope catches Josie or Josie catches Hope, and they climb out to lay on the dock together. The wood is uncomfortably hot underneath her back, but she can’t find it in herself to move much, merely twisting onto her side to face Josie. Josie’s eyes are shut, breaths coming quick and shallow, and for a short second Hope looks too closely at her best friend, her gaze focusing on the steady rise and fall of Josie’s chest instead of her face. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie cracks an eye open, squinting at Hope, who feels a spark of panic. The brunette raises her arms and stretches lazily, like a cat, flashing Hope the softest smile that she’s got. Hope feels an unknown emotion that she has failed to put a proper name to for years, one that fills up the pit of her stomach with warmth. She leans onto her back, letting the sunlight pound down on them.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope isn’t sure if she’s figured it out. Isn’t sure if she’ll ever figure it out — thinks that she’ll just be trying to make sense of it forever. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>There’s a quiet stretch of time where neither of them say anything. The clouds drift through the clear blue sky above them, occasionally shifting in shape or size. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Then: </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“We should go on a road trip.” Josie suggests, out of nowhere, and Hope grins, entertaining her.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Okay, where to?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Anywhere, I don’t know. There’s no reason why we have to stay here all summer. We’ve both got cars and I’ve saved up a little money this year. I could ask my dad about it — but it’s not really like he could say no. You’re turning eighteen next month, right?” Josie asks, but she doesn’t need confirmation. She knows. “You could be my adult supervision.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I don’t think Ric will count me as an adult.” Hope points out, even if she’ll legally be one in a matter of weeks. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Her birthday is not something that she normally likes to think about. She’s never enjoyed having so much attention on her, especially when she’s inevitably forced to sit through that excruciating happy birthday song. It’s hell. She honestly just wants to skip it. This year will most likely suck anyways, since Josie has plans to be in Europe that day.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It’s not that she’s mad about it — Hope knows how much Josie values time with her mother, and she assumes that she would feel the same if she still had hers — but she’s going to miss Josie at her side that day. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie must be able to read her mind, because she sombers up somewhat. Her lips flicker down half an inch, into a frown. “Hey, sorry I’m missing it this year. I’ll have to bring you back a souvenir.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“It’s okay.” Hope assures her, shrugging. “It’s not like I’m a big fan of my birthday, anyways.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Yeah, but you’re going to be eighteen. The big one, eight.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“It’s just another day, Jo.” Hope keeps her voice soft, but she can’t resist the urge to squirm under Josie’s gaze, dark brown eyes and long lashes. She feels strange beneath Josie’s examination. She swallows, looking away, finding it less difficult to stare directly into the sun than continuing to make eye contact. “Tell me more about this road trip we’re planning.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>So, Josie does. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They lay out their plan right then and there, both of them sharing their schedules and previous plans for the break, eventually agreeing to drive out of town together on July 4th. They’re going to take Hope’s car, because it has the most room in it, and in exchange Josie will pay for all snacks. It feels like one of those stupid plans teens come up with and never actually end up going through with, but Josie looks so excited about it all that Hope swears she’ll part the moon and sea to make it happen. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She solidifies this swear with her pinkie.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“This is dumb.” Hope grumbles, reluctantly linking pinkies with Josie. “We’re not five years old anymore.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Say it.” Josie commands.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope rolls her eyes. “Fine. I swear that we’ll go on a road trip together this summer.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Yay!”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>And that’s that. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They put back on their clothes and drive home as it gets dark. Hope sits behind the steering wheel while Josie takes up the passenger seat, singing along to whatever song plays scratchily out of the radio, and occasionally lowering the window to let her hand dance in the wind. It’s a nice night. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Once they reach Josie’s house, Hope stops the car and Josie leans across the center console to playfully smack a kiss against Hope’s cheek. She tilts away as if in slow motion, lingering close, and Hope swallows something so sharp that it almost seems as if she’s gotten another big gulp of lake water. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Her throat feels dry — it feels much drier when Josie hugs her goodbye, damp skin still heated and soft beneath her fingertips. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Bye, Josie.” Hope says, and rephrases it when that feels too final. “See you tomorrow.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie nods, smiling. “See you tomorrow.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The next day, Hope is back at Josie’s house, as promised. She helps to load all of their bags in the trunk of Alaric’s car, including Lizzie’s, which is the largest of them all and knocks the breath right out of Hope’s body when Lizzie tosses it at her carelessly. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Catch, Mikaelson!”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope is too used to Lizzie’s blunt and often rude nature to complain much. She mutters something foul under her breath while tucking Lizzie’s bag into the empty slot beside Josie’s yellow suitcase, but otherwise does nothing. She closes the trunk and finds Alaric standing nearby. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Thanks, Hope.” Alaric says, stiffly. He looks a bit tense. She guesses it’s because he hasn’t had a drink all day, since he’s driving. “Have you seen the girls recently? We’re going to be late.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He checks his watch, frowning. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope glances towards the front door, where she had seen Lizzie disappear into. “I think that they went back inside—“</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>As if on cue, the twins come bustling out the door and towards the car. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Lizzie acknowledges Hope with a short nod that means goodbye, but Josie is, predictably, more polite than her sister. Josie sticks by Hope while the others get in the vehicle. She’s fumbling with something in her hands, but Hope can’t see what it is. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Alaric honks the car horn.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope glances around uncertainly. “I think you’ve got to go…” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Sorry, sorry.” Josie murmurs. She holds up her hand and a silver chain dangles from her fingers, leading down to a talisman. She gives Hope a shy smile. “I took it off yesterday when we were at the lake and I forgot to put it back on. I didn’t want to leave it. Could you…” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Oh. Sure.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie hands Hope the necklace and spins to face away from her, sweeping her dark hair all to one side so most of the nape of her neck is exposed.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The talisman feels just as light in Hope’s palms as it did when she bought it for Josie, two years ago on the twins’ birthday. She’d clasped it onto Josie’s neck that day, too, and never had to do it again because Josie promised to wear it forever (except, of course, when showering, swimming, or interacting with water in general). Hope slips it around Josie’s throat and clasps it together behind her neck. Her fingers fumble over Josie’s gently thudding pulse for a second, and she hears Josie exhale softly, as if sighing in content. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie turns to face her. “Thank you, Hope.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“No problem.” Hope shrugs and smiles happily, a moment later, when Josie extends her arms widely to pull her into a hug. She steps forward to receive it. Her hands clutch at Josie’s waist for a little longer than necessary, reluctant to part with the other girl. “Have fun on your trip. Tell Caroline that I said hello.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“And call when you land, okay?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Okay.” Josie steps back. Alaric’s honking has gotten out of control by now. Hope glares in the direction of the car and Josie laughs, leaning in to peck her lips against Hope’s forehead. “I’m going to miss you.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I’ll miss you, too.” Hope says, honestly. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She feels her face heat. She isn’t one for being too sappy, but Josie is an exception. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Bye.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope continues to stand outside their house as the car drives away, watching until she sees the hood of it become a distant blur and eventually disappear onto the horizon. She walks home alone.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Two weeks later, on her birthday, Maya drags her out of the house and forces her to go to a party.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope had planned on spending the day in bed or with her aunts, maybe having a celebratory meal and some ice cream at the most. She’d gotten a phone call from a very sleepy Josie, who yawned heavily while wishing her a happy birthday. That made Hope’s day. She doesn’t need anything else to add onto it, but Maya clearly thinks otherwise. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Come on, Hope. It’ll be fun.” Maya urges. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope has never disliked Maya before, possibly because they’ve never hung out one on one like this — Maya and her brother, Ethan, transferred to MFHS halfway through the year — but now she is beginning to regret her decision of striking up a conversation with the girl in art class, five months ago. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I don’t want a birthday party.” Hope stops on the side of the street, where Maya has managed to drag her. People pass by them in droves, walking towards some shady house party at the end of the road. It’s definitely not Hope’s style. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“It’s not for you, it’s just a normal party.” Maya huffs and crosses her arms when Hope refuses to budge. “If it sucks then I owe you my life.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope smiles, despite herself. “Isn’t that a tad dramatic?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Yep. Come on!”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The party is in the basement of someone’s house and, as creepy as that sounds, it turns out that it is actually relatively sanitary inside. There’s only one dim light on downstairs, which Hope is glad for. She uses her ability to disappear and tries to shrink into the shadows, but unfortunately Maya knows her well enough to snatch her arm at the last second. Maya leads a scowling Hope to the front of the crowd, where a group of guys have set up instruments, Ethan included. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Hope, hey.” Ethan waves at her. “I didn’t think you would come, ice queen.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Your sister kidnapped me.” Hope says bluntly. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Ethan only half-chuckles — he’s always been a little slow on the uptake, enough that Hope has occasionally wondered if he sustained a football injury sometime — but a guy behind him laughs. Hope glances at the stranger and he falls quiet, looking embarrassed or intimidated or both. He returns to his previous task of tuning his guitar, his dark, curly hair bobbing as he does so. She plans to disregard him completely and go sneak off into the nearest corner, but he plays a tune that she recognizes. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Is that Brown Eyed Girl?” Hope asks, thinking of Josie miles away, irises the color of chocolate.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He blinks. He seems startled by her presence at first then slowly plays it again. “Yeah, it is. Are you a friend of Ethan’s?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Sort of. I’m Hope.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Landon.” He nods at her, smiling somewhat nervously. “Do you want me to teach you how to play it?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope only says yes because she assumes that she could show Josie later, but as Landon lays his palms over hers and rambles excitedly about the song, she feels strangely charmed by him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie calls her again later that night to talk about her day, and as Hope gets lost in her chat with Josie, she forgets to mention how Landon gave her his number that night.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope normally has a hard time opening up to people, but Landon is patient and persistent. He sends her enough texts to remain relevant in her head and actually gets her to laugh a couple of times, so she agrees to go out on a date with him a week later. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They go to an ice cream shop, where he works, and he gets her two large strawberry scoops for free. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“What happened there?” Landon points at her wrist. Hope pauses, setting down her spoon. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Oh. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope flips over her hand so the very faint, white scar on her palm is visible. She is pale enough that normally no one notices, but Landon has been staring at her for the better part of an hour. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“My cat, Yoda, scratched me.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Landon perks up. “You’re a Star Wars fan?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Sort of.” She’s only seen the first two movies, but before she can tell him this, he’s bending down to roll his pant leg up.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I got this climbing a fence last year.” Landon explains, pushing his pant leg high enough to reveal a long, pink scar. “My buddy, Raf, dared me to sneak into the community pool.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope’s phone buzzes, vibrating on the table.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She takes a quick glance at it. It’s Josie. Her first instinct is to answer immediately, but she decides that it’s probably poor date edicate, and sets her hand back in her lap. Even if Hope were to reply, she isn’t sure what she would say to Josie. She still hasn’t told her about Landon. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Maybe it’s because she doesn’t expect him to stick around long, persistent as he is. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Whenever Hope has expected the world to be cruel to her, the world has always delivered, so why would this be any different? She can’t see Landon becoming a lasting component in her life.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“What about that one?” Landon nods towards a scar on her collarbone, exposed by the thin tank top that she’s wearing today.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope freezes, her heart stopping altogether. It’s the one from the car crash.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Story for another time.” She deflects and brings another spoonful of ice cream up to her mouth.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie returns to Mystic Falls on the very first day of July. She has a slight tan, the tip of her nose marked near-permanent with pink, but other than that she’s the same girl as before. She embraces Hope on the porch of her house, already talking excitedly about her trip. They have a movie night before Josie has even unpacked yet. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They watch some superhero movie on the couch in Josie’s living room and throw popcorn at each other, laughing wildly. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>(Josie has brought Hope the most horrific pig souvenir and that alone sends them into a fit of giggles.)</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>For those few hours, neither of them mention the multiple times Hope forgot to call or pick up the phone, and the distance between them remains invisible. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Only a couple of days later, Landon decides it’s the perfect time for Hope to meet his friends.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Little by little, Hope has gotten herself to open up to Landon, but she isn’t sure of his friends. Still, he insists that Hope needs to try and come out of her shell a bit, and though it irks Hope to hear him say it, she knows he isn’t wrong. She likes her space, but it couldn’t hurt to drop by for a little while. At least a half hour, to be polite.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Rafael and Ethan aren’t the type of people Hope would expect Landon to be friends with. They’re decent people, but their energy is different. While Raf and Ethan are bold and solid, stereotypical jocks in every way, Landon has a much calmer, hushed vibe to him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Still.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She already knows Ethan, so Rafael is the only one she has to worry about. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Fortunately, he’s nice to her. Maybe too nice. He does a double-take when he sees her and, for a moment, she regrets wearing such a tight outfit, but that’s as far as it goes. Rafael stays friendly after that. He sets out a large, knitted blanket for all four of them to lay on, and they sit with a few cans of beer between them, swapping Landon stories to embarrass the boy. Hope soaks in as much as she can of it, though doesn’t have much to contribute herself. From what she hears, the worst thing Landon has done is trespassed into a couple of places he shouldn’t have — and that doesn’t rank very high on Hope’s danger scale.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They spend a solid two hours passing around beers and intently watching the sky, in search of fireworks. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It’s nice to relax for a little while. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She drifts away from the group, feeling slightly drained. Fireworks are beginning to pop above her head, the black sky blooming with flashes of bright colors. She feels her phone vibrate in her pocket, but before she can check it Landon calls her back over. The message goes unread.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p><strong>Josie [7:23pm]:</strong> are u coming?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Things get bad and then, somehow, they get a lot worse.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Clarke’s diner is practically abandoned, but Hope knows that it’s Landon’s favorite burger place, so when he takes off during an argument that’s the first place she thinks to go. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She can’t believe he just walked away from her.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Has Landon been in here?” Hope asks the man behind the counter.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He shakes his head. “Not tonight.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope does a sweep of the restaurant anyways, as if she doesn’t believe him. Her eyes settle on a brunette, but it’s not the one that she came in here looking for. Papers are strewn across the table she’s sitting at, pages of handwritten sheet music, and a ukulele occupies the space next to the girl.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It’s been two weeks since they’ve spoken to each other. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope has never had this big of a falling out with Josie. She usually ends up apologizing after a few days when she’s done something wrong and Josie usually ends up forgiving her, or vice versa, but this is different. Hope hasn’t apologized. Not yet. She’s tried to do it a million times and come up empty — she hates to admit that she is now the type of girl to ditch her friend for a boy — but anything she says feels like too little too late. The school year is rapidly sneaking up on them, and their reconciliation is something that should have happened days ago. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She approaches Josie slowly, dragging her feet.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Can I sit?” Hope asks and nods at the empty spot. Josie barely lifts her head.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope slides into the seat across from her, careful not to disturb the quiet environment Josie has set up for herself. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie searches Hope’s body for a split second, eyes roaming, as if checking for injury. A familiar soft expression flickers across her face, but as soon as it’s there it disappears. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, nestling it gently between her teeth. “You look tired.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Thanks.” Hope remarks, dryly.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She waits for Josie to call her an asshat or to kick her ankle under the table, the way she usually would if Hope was being a jerk, but nothing comes. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Josie doesn’t say anything at all. Hope takes the opportunity to look at Josie — really look at her. It almost feels as if she’s staring at a stranger, yet she knows it’s her best friend. She knows those sweet brown eyes better than anything else on this earth, but that doesn’t matter when they seem to purposefully avoid meeting her own.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope’s chest aches faintly.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Have you seen Landon, lately?” Hope waits for a response that never comes. In the silence, her anxious thoughts grow, but one tiny glance from Josie has them tumbling out of her mouth. She usually isn’t one to ramble, but just the sight of Josie so close after so long lulls her into a warm sense of security. “I’ve been looking for him all night. We got into an argument about… well, I don’t really know what. He left before we could get into it. He always says he wants me to open up, but you know that it’s hard for me—“</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Whatever happened, just talk to him. It goes a long way.” Josie interrupts. She half-smiles with great difficulty and, after a long pause, adds, “Would’ve gone a long way with me.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>For a few trembling seconds, Hope stares at Josie with wounded eyes, and Josie stares right back, her gaze now visibly guarded.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Jo, I…” Hope whispers pleadingly, unable to put a proper end to her sentence, almost tearing up in her state of vulnerability. She sniffs and gets to her feet, her bones lead weight in her body. “I’ll see you around.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>As Hope walks away from Josie, she stops near the door to subtly check if Josie is watching her leave.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She isn’t.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>That night, she dreams of the road trip that never was, their abandoned Fourth of July plan. Hope dreams about them packed like sardines in her dad’s cramped car, piles and piles of snacks and blankets strewn across the whole backseat. She dreams about them driving past the <em>Now Leaving Mystic Falls</em> sign with their middle fingers held in the air, windows rolled down and grins stretching their mouths. She dreams about them stopping to visit every roadside attraction, every odd street sign, and every art museum, soaking in every bit of the world that they can together. She dreams about <em>Josie</em>. Josie sitting in the passenger seat, belting out the <em>Wicked</em> soundtrack as they pass building after building, only stopping to buy Lizzie or Alaric a bad souvenir. Josie, laughing along to Hope’s dumb jokes in a diner far from here, a peanut butter blast, fries, and a veggie burger split between them. She dreams about Josie sleeping right beside her, where she should have been all summer, peacefully tucked under her arm as they spooned in the backseat. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Josie, Josie, Josie.</em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Hope wakes up to a clogged throat and clammy hands, her skin slick with sweat, foggy flashes of Josie’s warm smile fading through her mind. She grips at the lingering images as they go, and she isn’t sure if she’s thankful or not when they disappear completely.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To be clear, this fic isn’t a Riverdale AU and won’t follow the same plot, but this first chapter is loosely based off of Riverdale’s pilot episode</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Period 1 - Environmental Science, Mrs. Lopez</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Period 2 - Spanish 4, Ms. Villa</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Period 3 - AP World History, Mr. Saltzman</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Period 4 - English 4 Honors, Mr. Vardemus</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lunch</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Period 5 - Study Hall</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Period 6 - Trigonometry, Mr. Williamson</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Period 7 - Art, Ms. Tig</em>
</p><p> </p><p>One class. Hope’s eyes trace over her schedule again and again, as if willing the words to change and shift into something more pleasant. Her eyes sting and her vision swims, but unfortunately her classes for the year remain the same. One class with Josie — English. One class where she’ll be able to sit with her. One, forty-minute opportunity to apologize properly and set them back on the right track for the year.</p><p> </p><p>Hope bites into her toast messily, doing another sweep of the page while she chews.</p><p> </p><p>“Yikes.” Keelin comments, peering over Hope’s shoulder at the schedule. “You’ve got Vardemus for English. Good luck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is he tough?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tough isn’t the word I would use.” Freya muses, a hint of amusement in her voice. She seems to be reliving old memories, although it’s mildly hard to tell, with the way her head is tilted towards her unlaced boots. She grips the black laces and ties a knot before moving onto her left foot. “Spiteful, would be the better word. Rude. Jealous, maybe. Bitter, definitely. He was horrible to me during my senior year. Klaus and Kol, too. And Rebekah. I’m sure he’s got it out for the whole family.”</p><p> </p><p>Keelin rolls her eyes. “Or maybe you four were just troublemakers. I don’t remember Elijah being in those weekly detentions.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.” Freya muses and reaches across the kitchen counter to snag a cherry red apple out of the basket. “But Elijah never really did much of anything. Golden boy.”</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing her first bite of fruit, Freya turns her attention back to Hope. “You’ll see when you get there. Be careful around Vardemus, and if he’s too much, then you can always call me.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope silently thinks that a wrinkled, old English teacher with a grudge is the last of her problems, but she nods anyways.</p><p> </p><p>Freya, apparently satisfied, rises from her seat to peck Keelin on the cheek and grab her coat. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll bring back something from Clarke’s for dinner. Hope, do you want a ride to school?”</p><p> </p><p>Hope shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m going to walk with Josie.”</p><p> </p><p>Twenty minutes and two pieces of jelly-smeared toast later, Hope is on her way to the Saltzman’s house. Her backpack jiggles and jumps slightly with each step she takes, the notebooks inside jostled by her quick pace. The sun beats down on her head in a way that is much more annoying than pleasant, but each time she thinks of the cool air conditioning in her beloved car, she also thinks of Josie’s crestfallen face in the diner last night, and her decision is made. She powers on down the sidewalk, only slowing to a stop once she reaches the porch.</p><p> </p><p>Hope knocks.</p><p> </p><p>As she waits, her insides seem to grow minds of their own, just so that they can twist themselves into knots and irritate her. She has trouble getting them to settle down.</p><p> </p><p>Hope knocks. Again.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” It’s not the girl Hope came to see — it’s her father. Alaric blinks. “Oh. You’re here.”</p><p> </p><p>Up close, his eyes appear to be a little bloodshot and unfocused. His jaw is darkened by scruff as well, giving him the appearance of a run-down man who has not shaved in weeks. If Hope sniffs the air — and she does, as she inevitably has to inhale to keep breathing — then she can smell a scent that strongly resembles one you would expect to find floating around a bar.</p><p> </p><p>Jesus. It’s barely eight in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here.” Hope repeats, taking a step back, her nose wrinkling in mild disgust. “Is Josie? I’d like to see her… if she’s alright with that.”</p><p> </p><p>Alaric takes a while to answer. “She left already. Pretty sure Lizzie drove her.”</p><p> </p><p>Crap.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. Thank you.” Hope says, barely able to mask her disappointment. She leaves before he can give another unhelpful response.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Lizzie is in her very first class of the day, and she isn’t much help in finding Josie. She refuses to give Hope any details about Josie’s whereabouts and berates Hope profusely over being a terrible friend.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice job, Hope.” Lizzie whispers fiercely, only staying quiet because they’re in class. “Very sensitive and kind of you. You know, if you’re going to keep breaking my sister’s heart—“</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t trying to—!”</p><p> </p><p>She cuts Hope off. “Then your friend privileges are revoked. You know, you should think before you do things. You’re not the one that has to deal with Josie’s crying.”</p><p> </p><p>“She cried?” Hope asks softly.</p><p> </p><p>Her stomach plummets to her shoes.</p><p> </p><p>Lizzie suddenly looks uncomfortable, like she just said something she wasn’t supposed to. “The trip was rough for her. You would know that if you asked, but apparently you were too busy with some boy that you just met — <em>and</em>, you know how Josie feels about being a second choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s <em>not</em> my second choice!”</p><p> </p><p>A couple of people send them curious glances at the sound of Hope yelling. Hope and Lizzie both glare back at their peers until they decide to mind their own goddamn business.</p><p> </p><p>“Funny way of showing it.” Lizzie mutters as she returns to her notes.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Her luck worsens as the day goes on. Her first class passes with no sign of Josie anywhere, and she is unable to spot her in the halls as she goes to her second period.</p><p> </p><p>“Hola.” MG greets her in Spanish class.</p><p> </p><p>Hope unenthusiastically falls into the seat beside him, dropping her bag on the floor. She’s already dreading the next forty-five minutes of icebreaker questions and long introductions. She’s even less excited for her upcoming AP history class with a hungover Mr. Saltzman.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow. You look like…” MG’s eyes roam the open book on the desk, squinting. “<em>Un desastre</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>A disaster.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. I feel like one, too.” Hope goes on to tell him everything about what happened during the summer. He listens to her, but seems to be rather unsurprised by the news.</p><p> </p><p>“Lizzie told me.” MG reveals, after she gets done talking. “I just wanted to hear it from your point of view — I hoped it would clear some things up — but, it’s still pretty bad, Hope. You’ve got to tell Josie that you’re sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been trying—“ Ms. Villa shoots a scathing look in her direction and Hope lowers her voice, feeling mildly embarrassed. “—I’ve been trying to do that all day. I have no idea where she is.”</p><p> </p><p>(She is starting to get the feeling that Josie is purposefully avoiding her.)</p><p> </p><p>MG sighs. “Alright, alright. Calm down. We’ll talk strategy later. Let’s hit Clarke’s after school, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>For the remainder of class, they pay attention to the lesson. It’s a review day. Hope is incredibly happy once it ends and she’s allowed to leave.</p><p> </p><p>She’s a lot happier when she spots Josie at the end of the hall.</p><p> </p><p>Now’s her chance.</p><p> </p><p>Hope charges down the hallway, shoving people to the side with her shoulders as she goes after a familiar brunette head. She’s lucky that Josie is tall, because it makes it easier to spot the swing of her ponytail from far away. Hope speeds up. She’s almost there…</p><p> </p><p>“Dana, move.” Hope growls, looking past her.</p><p> </p><p>Dana doesn’t listen. In fact, she does the exact opposite of that and takes a step closer, invading Hope’s personal space. She waves a sheet of paper in front of Hope’s face, swinging it back and forth obnoxiously.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you signing up for the school musical?”</p><p> </p><p>The page is split in two, the top half for the actors and the bottom half for the backstage crew. Only a couple of people have signed up so far. Dana’s full name is taking up two slots on the sheet, but beneath that, in much smaller writing, is Josie’s name. Hope hadn’t known she was auditioning. She knew about Josie’s love for musicals, but as far as she knew Josie was only comfortable with singing in front of her, not in front of everyone at school.</p><p> </p><p>“Josie?” Hope whispers to herself, voice strangely thick.</p><p> </p><p>Why hadn’t she known?</p><p> </p><p>“Yep.” Dana waves the sheet under Hope’s nose again, nearly slapping her across the face with it. “I don’t know why she signed up for the lead role when she can barely sing—“</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Dana.” Hope snaps. She ignores the offended look on the blonde’s face and snatches the sign-up sheet from her, furiously scribbling her name on the backstage crew’s section. “Josie is better than ten of you combined.”</p><p> </p><p>Dana scoffs.</p><p> </p><p>Hope pays her no mind, instead swiveling around to see where Josie went, but it’s as if she is now able to disappear into thin air. She’s gone. Fuck. How could she have let herself get distracted like that? She’ll have to do better next time.</p><p> </p><p>The bell rings.</p><p> </p><p>Shockingly, Alaric’s class is her favorite out of all of them, so far. He’s clearly far too exhausted to teach them anything of importance, and as a result everyone in class is allowed a study hall, as long as they can study quietly. Hope doodles mindlessly for the allotted time and rushes out of there once she’s able.</p><p> </p><p>Her English class is on the top floor. She pushes an innocent, scrawny-looking freshman aside in order to get there early. Luckily, the classroom is halfway deserted, except for a couple students, Mr. Vardemus, and…</p><p> </p><p>Something in Hope’s chest loosens.</p><p> </p><p><em>Josie</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Finally.</p><p> </p><p>Josie has chosen a seat in the back of the room, despite the other options in front and, luckily, the chair beside her isn’t filled yet. Hope walks swiftly through the line of desks and plops down in the open seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, can we—“</p><p> </p><p>But before Hope can get through her sentence, someone taps their cane twice against the desk.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, yes?” She’s unable to hide her annoyance as she looks up at the old teacher who had interrupted her. In an attempt to be more polite, she adds, “Sir?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mikaelson, is it?” Hope nods. “Well, if you’re going to talk throughout the entire class, then I’d suggest you choose another seat.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine here, thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Vardemus stares at her for a second longer before whirling around to stroll towards the front of the class, tapping his cane against the floor with each step. Hope glares at his back. Maybe Freya was right to warn her earlier. Class hasn’t even started yet and she’s already being scolded for saying no more than three words.</p><p> </p><p>Josie is ignoring the entire interaction. She looks tired, a sullen expression on her face and a hard line where her smile should be. She ignores all of Hope’s attempts to talk and refuses to make eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>Hope rips off a corner of her paper, scribbles out an apology, and pushes it towards Josie’s side of the desk, but it lays there, untouched, while Mr. Vardemus begins his lecture.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s get down to it, shall we? The person next to you is to be your assigned desk mate for the rest of the year — no exceptions, so I hope that you have chosen wisely. They will also be your partner when we go on our annual field trip this month, the destination of which is the same as the setting of our summer reading book. Which one of you can tell me where that is?”</p><p> </p><p>After several minutes of Josie refusing to unfold or even spare a glance at the letter, it becomes clear that Hope needs to find new measures of communication. She checks to make sure that Mr. Vardemus is distracted by his lecture before leaning over and whispering to Josie in a quiet tone. “Jo, please, I’m sorry…”</p><p> </p><p>“Throughout the novel, we see the golden coin appear multiple times, in the possession of many different characters. It’s important…” There’s a slight lull in his speech. Hope doesn’t notice. She is too busy desperately whispering to Josie. “But maybe if Miss Mikaelson thinks that she can explain it better, we should all listen to her.”</p><p> </p><p>Several heads suddenly turn towards the back of the class, the attention shifting to Hope. Damn it. She feels heat creep up the back of her neck.</p><p> </p><p>“By all means, Miss Mikaelson, go ahead. Share your thoughts with the class.”</p><p> </p><p>“Er — well — it’s a metaphor.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, very good. After twelve years of school you’ve learned that much.” Mr. Vardemus smirks, seeming to take pleasure in Hope’s growing embarrassment. “This is an honors class, Miss Mikaelson, you’re going to need to step it up if you want to pass. Can’t get by on reputation alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Asshole.</p><p> </p><p>Hope bites her tongue, filling with a new hatred for the man standing in front of her. She focuses on keeping her mouth shut — saying any of the thoughts inside of her head out loud would surely result in a suspension.</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Vardemus waits for a moment, testing both her patience and temper, and just when it seems as if they are going to move on, Josie speaks up.</p><p> </p><p>“I think what Hope was trying to say was that the coin is a metaphor for power. It can be passed to anyone and taken just as easily, as shown in…” Josie thinks for a moment. “Chapter thirty-one and twenty-two.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope glows with silent admiration and relief, but Mr. Vardemus doesn’t share her sentiment.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, <em>Mrs. Mikaelson.</em>” He drawls, visibly unimpressed. An uneasy chuckle runs through the room and Josie turns scarlet. Hope clenches her fists under the desk, internally boiling. “But being a know-it-all isn’t going to get you brownie points here. I’ll remind you to raise your hand if you’re going to speak in my classroom.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope’s mouth flies open furiously to defend her.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Leave it.</em>” Josie hisses, so that Mr. Vardemus can’t hear, but Hope can. One of her hands has caught Hope’s wrist while the other is firmly held over Hope’s mouth. “You’ll get us both in trouble. Again.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie removes her hands slowly, once she’s sure that Hope won’t retaliate.</p><p> </p><p>Hope’s face falls. She had thought — for a very short second — that they were united in their shared hatred of Mr. Vardemus. She was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>When class ends, Josie is the first one out of the room. She hurries down the hall before Hope can reach her, shoulders hunched defensively.</p><p> </p><p>It screams: <em>fuck off.</em></p><p> </p><p>Hope can take a message.</p><p> </p><p>There are two tables in the cafeteria where she could sit — Raf and Landon are the only ones at a table, and to the left of them Lizzie, Josie, and MG are all sitting together — but she chooses to sit alone instead. Hope figures that she should stop pestering Josie if Josie intends to get away from her.</p><p> </p><p>Her appetite is completely gone. She opens up a book to pass the time. As she goes over the old material, her mind drifts into an old memory.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Wait, wait. I wasn’t done yet.” Hope complains, reaching around to stop Josie from turning the page.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They’re laying underneath the shade of a tree in the backyard, Hope resting her back against the tree’s trunk while Josie lays between her spread legs. She leans closer to wrap her arms loosely around Josie’s waist, digging her fingers into the warm slip of bare skin exposed by Josie’s rising sweater.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“We could take a break.” Josie suggests, letting go of the book so that it falls into her lap, pages splayed. “There’s lemonade inside.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“No, I’m comfortable.” Hope holds her tight.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They don’t talk for a second, basking in the sun and the closeness of each other. Josie sighs, a serene sound, like music, and shifts slightly to face Hope. “I could read to you, if you want.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Okay.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Josie picks up the book again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hope’s daydream fades away as Landon takes the seat across from him, the clatter of his bags and lunch tray against the table breaking her out of her reverie.</p><p> </p><p>The warmth in her chest she had felt while reliving her memory of Josie disappears.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Hope levels him with a blank stare. “So, you’re talking to me now?”</p><p> </p><p>Landon lets out a dejected sigh. “I’m sorry, Hope. I shouldn’t have run away from you like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope stays silent.</p><p> </p><p>“When we started arguing, I guess I just thought that you were going to break-up with me.” He fails to meet her eyes. “So, I tried to leave before you could do it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you think I’d break up with you?”</p><p> </p><p>He blushes faintly. “Cause you’re Hope Mikaelson. You’re a pretty girl and I’m some nerd that ranted about my Lord of the Rings theories to you on our first date.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope lays her hand on his over the table. “I’m not going to break up with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Landon relaxes as this confirmation, seeming to be surprised over her lack of anger. They don’t say much to each other past that. Landon busies himself with a turkey sandwich and Hope steals glances at Josie from across the room, thinking of ways to get her alone.</p><p> </p><p>When are those musical auditions? She only signed up as an excuse to spend time with Josie.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure we’re okay?” Landon questions, five minutes later. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You still seem a little mad.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just Vardemus. He’s an ass.” Hope casts a sideways look at Josie. “Plus, Josie still isn’t talking to me, and I think I just made it worse.”</p><p> </p><p>“Josie… I haven’t met her.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh. Right.</p><p> </p><p>Hope points in Josie’s direction and Landon turns his head. “She’s my best friend. I’ve already told you this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. She’s pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>“The prettiest.” Hope agrees absentmindedly, not bothered or jealous by the way Landon says it.</p><p> </p><p>Josie’s beauty is obvious, even from here, a mix of innocence and temptation that catches many eyes. Hope stares at her for a moment longer, watching Josie laugh at something MG is telling the table, before she looks away.</p><p> </p><p>Landon is frowning. “If she’s your best friend, why haven’t I met her before?”</p><p> </p><p>Hope ignores his question, glaring so hard at the page that the letters swim and blur in her vision.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>At the end of the day, Hope finds MG standing outside at the school’s entrance. He’s got his back to her and is chatting with Jed and Dana.</p><p> </p><p>Great.</p><p> </p><p>“—you’ve got to come, dude. The whole school is going to be there. It’ll really set things off for the year.” Jed’s voice is loud, as always, but it quiets as Hope approaches. He turns his attention to her. “Hey, Mikaelson, you’re coming to my back to school party this weekend, right? I was just trying to convince MG. Your girl’s coming, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope raises her eyebrows. “My girl?”</p><p> </p><p>“Josie.” He says, like it’s nothing. “I think she’s bringing her dad’s beer. Can you snag anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Whatever.” Hope shrugs. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d broken into her aunts’ liquor cabinet.</p><p> </p><p>She grabs MG’s arm and tries to subtly pull him away from the group, leading him towards the sidewalk.</p><p> </p><p>Dana over-enthusiastically waves goodbye. “Bye MG!”</p><p> </p><p>MG half-heartedly waves back, just to be polite.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s diner is a bit of an escape for the whole town — a safe place to unwind after school or in the mornings and fill up on burgers, milkshakes, and fries. It’s flashing neon lights and friendly exterior draw people in with ease. She is looking forward to the chance to relax and vent to MG about her day.</p><p> </p><p>As they step inside, a bell chimes above and a cool rush of air rolls over them.</p><p> </p><p>“Pick any booth you want, kids.” Clarke calls out to them.</p><p> </p><p>Hope scans her eyes over the empty tables and feels something inside of herself seize up as her eyes land on the Saltzman twins. She didn’t think they’d be here. Josie must feel similarly, because her eyes widen minutely before she sinks in her seat like she hadn’t seen Hope at all.</p><p> </p><p>MG shoves her forward forcefully. “<em>Go</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I sit? I’ll buy lunch.” Hope adds quickly. “For all of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Lizzie nods, accepting her offer, and Josie looks out the window, not saying anything. Hope sits down across from Josie while MG slides into the spot beside Hope. Josie has the sleeves of her sweater pulled up over her knuckles, giving her a softer appearance. Hope wants to comment on it, but she doubts that’s what Josie wants to hear right now.</p><p> </p><p>She’s not totally sure if Josie would appreciate it if she started airing out all their dirty laundry right in front of their friends. She hesitates to say anything.</p><p> </p><p>They’re soon joined by a waitress. “What would you four like?”</p><p> </p><p>Hope, Lizzie, and MG all order burgers, while Josie gets a grilled cheese sandwich. They also get an order of large fries for the table and four milkshakes.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Josie pipes up. “Can I have a small side of maraschino cherries, too?</p><p> </p><p>The waitress nods and leaves them alone.</p><p> </p><p>Hope can’t help but smile at Josie’s eagerness over cherries. Josie must notice, because she points her attention to the floor, blushing faintly.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that a new coat, Liz?” MG asks.</p><p> </p><p>Despite the heat, Lizzie is wearing a thick, black coat that looks rather expensive.</p><p> </p><p>“You bet it is. Mom took us out for all sorts of stuff in Europe — we pretty much bought everything in this one store. It’s where I got this.” Lizzie taps her collar, modeling the coat flamboyantly. “We got it on sale… everything was on sale, actually. Thanks to Josie.”</p><p> </p><p>What does that mean?</p><p> </p><p>Josie sinks in her seat further, looking as if she would rather be anywhere else. Her cheeks are the color of the cherries she just ordered, bright red. Try as she might, Hope can’t figure out why Josie is so embarrassed by Lizzie’s comment.</p><p> </p><p>Lizzie continues to chatter on about the trip. She doesn’t say anything that Hope cares about, only giving them details about the clothes she bought.</p><p> </p><p>Hope rests her chin on her palm, bored.</p><p> </p><p>The waitress comes along with their food, setting out four plates for each of them and handing out napkins. Hope lifts the bun off of her burger and plucks the pickles off without thinking.</p><p> </p><p>Josie sits up and leans over the table, her hand momentarily outstretched towards Hope’s plate, before she hesitates, closing in on herself a little.</p><p> </p><p>“No, they’re all yours.” Hope says quickly. She shoves the plate across the table. “Go ahead.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Josie shyly collects them all and pops a pickle into her mouth. Hope feels restless, her brain flicking through possible ways to apologize that will actually work this time.</p><p> </p><p>Hope extends her leg and taps Josie’s ankle with her foot, trying to get her attention.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no sign that Josie felt it at all. She keeps on eating quietly, not lifting her head once, letting Lizzie and MG dominate the conversation. Hope sighs dejectedly and grabs her glass, bringing it up to her mouth just as Josie delivers a swift kick to her shin. Hope jolts, the milkshake in her hand tipping over and spilling everywhere, the sticky, cold liquid seeping right into her shirt.</p><p> </p><p>It’s silent aside from the 50s music playing in the background.</p><p> </p><p>Josie laughs.</p><p> </p><p>Hope looks up, no longer angered by the state of her shirt. She watches as Josie tries to contain her giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. It feels as if the clouds have momentarily parted so the light can shine on them again.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re such a klutz.” It’s not mean-spirited at all, it’s almost joyful. Josie sits up, dabbing at Hope’s collar with a napkin. She looks at something (or rather, <em>someone</em>) behind Hope and the mirthful expression slides off of her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Penelope?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Penelope looks distinctly out of place, standing in the middle of a run-down old diner, wearing her plush coat and luxurious black heels. She sticks out like a sore thumb, a shiny diamond amongst the rocks. She catches four pairs of eyes — MG, Hope, Josie, and Lizzie — almost immediately.</p><p> </p><p>Hope is the first one to look away, shifting her gaze back to Josie just in time to spot the other girl’s shocked expression, her cheeks flushed, pink lips parted.</p><p> </p><p>It churns Hope’s stomach, somehow, like waiting for a jump scare in a horror movie.</p><p> </p><p>“JoJo.” Penelope only has eyes for Josie and ignores the rest of them. Hope raises an eyebrow. JoJo? “Funny seeing you here.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie replies, tongue-tied. “Yeah. I, uh, live here. I told you that.”</p><p> </p><p>Penelope and Josie stare at each other for longer than strangers should.</p><p> </p><p>Lizzie has the distinct look of someone watching a drama show unfold. She reaches over and steals a few of Hope’s fries. Hope doesn’t notice.</p><p> </p><p>She feels as if she’s been violently shoved right out of the loop. It frustrates her immensely that she can’t tell what’s going on. Even MG seems to have more of a clue than her.</p><p> </p><p>After watching this interaction go on, with a great dislike swelling in her stomach, Hope interrupts, much too loudly. “Who are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Penelope’s eyes flicker down to Hope’s ruined shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“If I knew the dress code here included wearing my dinner, I wouldn’t have come.” Penelope says it in such a way that no one can tell if she’s joking or genuinely making fun of Hope. She holds a blank expression for a prolonged second before smiling, without any sign of teeth. “Kidding. I’m Penelope. Nice to meet you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Likewise.” Hope shakes her hand stiffly. “How do you know <em>JoJo?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Oh. We met in Europe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. Penelope’s the one that got us all of these free clothes.” Lizzie chimes in excitedly, modeling her coat once again. “Her parents are loaded, they own a whole company. The store was huge, it was amazing.”</p><p> </p><p>MG hangs onto her every word, lost in the face of her excitement, his adoring gaze tracing over her repeatedly.</p><p> </p><p>Hope ignores this. “Right. So, why are you here in Mystic Falls?”</p><p> </p><p>Something jabs painfully into her ankle and she jumps, startled, looking across the table at Josie, who had very obviously just kicked her. If Hope were anyone else, she might not be able to read the look on Josie’s face, but she’s known Josie for years, so she is easily able to tell that Josie thinks her borderline interrogation is rude.</p><p> </p><p>Hope drops her chin into her hand, feeling very much like a scolded child. “I mean… welcome to the town. My name is Hope by the way, if I didn’t already mention that.”</p><p> </p><p>She was just curious. She sees no reason why Josie had to kick her.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got a to-go order for Park.” Clarke calls out, and apparently that’s Penelope’s last name. She turns her head at the sound of it.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s my cue.” Penelope tells them, clasping her hands together. “I guess I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow. Hope, you might want to get a couple napkins for your shirt.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope scowls.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s right, Hope.” MG says. Hope had almost forgotten that he was there, though that seems impossible now that he’s dipping his fries in the meager remains of her shake. “You’re dripping milkshake everywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope slowly becomes more aware of the sticky substance leaking into her pants and grimaces.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I’m going to go home for a shower.”</p><p> </p><p>MG slides out of the booth so that Hope can get up. Hope says goodbye to him and Lizzie, but becomes hesitant, and almost timid, when talking to Josie.</p><p> </p><p>“Could I walk you home?” Hope asks. She feels a weight lift off her shoulders when Josie replies with a small smile and a nod.</p><p> </p><p>“Finally.” Lizzie mutters under her breath.</p><p> </p><p>“See you guys later.” MG smiles, already picking greedily at Hope’s leftover burger. Hope doesn’t mind. He can have it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, see you.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope holds the door open for Josie. As Josie walks by her, she inhales subtly and catches a calming whiff of lavender shampoo. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the smell. She stumbles slightly after Josie, still dizzy from the contentedness of having her best friend back in reach. It’s times like these that her mind flies back to the summer and she wishes she had a time machine.</p><p> </p><p>Josie hugs her elbows with her palms, like she might be cold, despite the sun beating down on them. Hope instinctively moves to take off her jacket before she remembers that it’s covered in ice cream.</p><p> </p><p>They walk along the sidewalk for a solid minute without saying a word to each other.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a beautiful day. The sun is so bright that one would guess they’re still caught in the heart of the summer, in that lazy day where they swam circles around each other in the lake, nothing but water and laughter between them.</p><p> </p><p>The silence is almost peaceful. That’s part of why Hope isn’t speaking just yet — for one thing, she can’t think of anything to say, but for another, it’s so nice out that if she gets her imagination going, she can pretend that this is just another day, and it’s just another time that she is strolling through town with Josie. And everything is okay, the world is wonderful with Josie by her side.</p><p> </p><p>Yet, Hope knows she needs to apologize.</p><p> </p><p>“Jo?” She asks cautiously.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm?” Josie blinks as if she hadn’t expected Hope to talk. Her eyes are a bit unfocused from staring up at the sky for so long.</p><p> </p><p>Hope gathers up her courage. “I need to apologize. I’m sorry for how I treated you this summer. I acted like a complete and total ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s not.” Hope feels a prickle of frustration. It would be better to have Josie yelling at her than brushing everything aside. “Be straight with me, come on.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie slows to a stop. She picks at a loose thread on her sweater, looking conflicted.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just, for the first time in my whole life, I don’t understand you. Why didn’t you show up? Why didn’t you at least call?” Her voice takes on an accusing tone, the words hitting Hope sharply, a knife to the chest each time. “Why did you stop talking to me when I’m supposed to be your best friend?”</p><p> </p><p>For a second it looks like she’s going to say <em>why was I not good enough</em> and Hope bites the inside of her cheek hard, tasting copper and misery.</p><p> </p><p>“I… I don’t—“</p><p> </p><p>“You could have called you, you know. We could have rescheduled. It didn’t have to be the Fourth of July, it could’ve been any day, but you didn’t do anything. Instead, you just made me feel so… so <em>replaceable</em>.” Josie’s voice loses its edge at that last part, her face falling flat. Big, brown eyes turn softer, wounded, and she continues to walk in the other direction, though she moves slowly enough that Hope can easily follow.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not replaceable.” Hope catches up with her. “Really. There’s nobody like you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then <em>why?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“I forgot.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“You forgot?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hope pulls Josie back, with difficulty, before she can cross the street. She figures it would be too hard to talk with cars coming at them, and this is already proving to be rather tough.</p><p> </p><p>Josie stands in front of her with her arms crossed, her bottom lip rounded in a pout.</p><p> </p><p>“On the Fourth of July, Landon surprised me by taking me out to meet his friends and — well, that’s where I was.” She rushes past the details as Josie frowns. “I really did forget. I was out all day and then I didn’t check my phone and I… I was too much of a coward to fess up and tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>Feeling desperate, Hope takes Josie’s hands in her own. Josie allows her to, holding her back in a loose, non-committal kind of way as Hope goes on. “But I’m here now, and I’m so, so sorry. It’ll never happen again. Please, Josie. I miss you.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence.</p><p> </p><p>Josie stares at her for a long moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re an idiot. Don’t do something like this again, okay? You can always talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Hope pauses. “Wait. Does this mean we can be <em>us</em> again?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” She grips Hope’s hand with enough force to pull her safely across the street.</p><p> </p><p>A relief like no other washes over Hope, filling her to the brim. This is the best that she has felt all day.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed you, too.” Josie admits, a little shyly. “Honestly, I’m not that great at holding grudges. There’s so much I’ve been wanting to tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like… I got this new plant as a gift from my mom. His name is Herbert, he’s the cutest. And I’ve been watching those 80s movies you’re into. The Breakfast Club, the Outsiders, and I’m about halfway through Dead Poets Society.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope brightens up. “Did you like them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. You were right, they’re classics.” Josie nods. “But I want to finish up Dead Poets Society with you. Oh! I forgot to tell you, I got so many new clothes. Lizzie wasn’t the only one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah? How was your trip?” Hope forces her tone into a casual one, remembering Lizzie’s words from earlier. <em>The trip was rough.</em></p><p> </p><p>Josie shrugs. “It was… a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope waits for her to elaborate, but she never does. She plans on questioning Josie further, but by now they have reached her house, and she is itching for a shower. In the time they’ve walked over here, multiple flies have decided to swarm around her, and her arms are getting tired from having to swat them away.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to come in?” Hope offers hopefully, nodding towards her front door. “I’ve still got to shower first, but after that we can hang out if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m not sure if…”</p><p> </p><p>“Please?</p><p> </p><p>Hope wants nothing more than for this ongoing strain between them to disappear completely.</p><p> </p><p>“We can finish the move together.” She offers, an almost pleading tone in her voice. She clears her throat quickly. How embarrassing — begging for Josie to spend time with her.</p><p> </p><p>Josie smiles, finally nodding. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Once inside the house, Hope excuses herself to go shower, leaving Josie in her bedroom. Finally being able to wash the remnants of milkshake off of her body is a huge relief. She scrubs the sugar and cream off of her skin vigorously and dries off before leaving the bathroom, wrapped up in a towel.</p><p> </p><p>Back in her room she finds Josie kneeling by her collection of DVDs, sorting through them with an obvious sense of excitement. A small smile plays on her face as she finds the right one.</p><p> </p><p>Hope’s heart seems to expand and glow at the sight, fondness for the other girl overcoming her.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” She says, softly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hope, hey.” Her eyes widen slightly — maybe she’s startled — and fly back down just as quickly as they came up. She keeps them down while Hope dresses. “You expanded your collection. Some of this stuff actually came out in the last ten years. I’m proud.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up.” Hope grumbles, only teasing, taking the DVD case out of Josie’s hands and bonking her over the head with it. Josie laughs.</p><p> </p><p>They pile onto Hope’s bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Scootch.” Hope says, gently shoving Josie aside to make room. Josie pouts, but moves willingly. The look on her face is so endearingly familiar that Hope can’t help but grin as she sits down.</p><p> </p><p>Hope hadn’t expected Josie’s anger to abate in a matter of minutes, so she is entirely unsurprised when Josie throws her legs into her lap and puts Hope into an uncomfortable cuddling position. Josie’s cold feet jab into her thighs. Yet, it doesn’t feel like a punishment this time. Hope welcomes the slight chill on her skin, because it means that Josie is here. <em>Really</em> here. And Hope can finally rest easy.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>As the movie goes on, Josie seems to relax more and more, leaning into Hope’s side for support. Her body feels practically boneless.</p><p> </p><p>“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.” Hope turns to find Josie watching her — or rather, watching her lips move as they mouth along to a line in the movie.</p><p> </p><p>A slightly glazed look swims over Josie’s eyes, a certain stillness taking over them. It reminds her of the calm, unbroken surface of the lake, except that Josie’s eyes are brown, not blue, and a lake has never managed to hold Hope’s attention like this.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>Josie blinks, turning a faint shade of pink that’s almost invisible in the dim light. “Nothing. You’re becoming a little pretentious, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Am not.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re quoting poets — you’re pretentious.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.” Hope rolls her eyes and flicks Josie’s shoulder. Josie flicks Hope back, getting her in the side, and they both return their attention to the movie.</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, when it’s over and the sky has faded into an inky purple color, Hope decides that it’s probably time for her to get Josie home.</p><p> </p><p>She stands up, stretching. “It’s really late, Josie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Josie checks the clock.</p><p> </p><p>They have about twenty minutes before curfew, then Alaric will start complaining. Hope already knows this from prior experience and multiple lectures received throughout the years.</p><p> </p><p>Josie yawns like a kitten, pawing at the side of her face. She blinks big, round Bambi eyes at Hope. It’s a struggle for Hope to tell her to go.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got to get home before curfew or your dad will me. Come on.” She pokes an unwilling Josie in the side, jostling her. “I’ll walk you before it gets too dark. I want you home safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“He probably wouldn’t care that much.” Josie mumbles, mostly to herself, but Hope hears it.</p><p> </p><p>Josie glances out the window. Her gaze stays there, pinned by the darkness for a while. She visibly zones out, clearly distracted.</p><p> </p><p>Hope pauses. “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can tell me if you want.” Hope smiles slyly and nudges Josie’s arm. “I can keep a secret.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie doesn’t smile back. She stares at Hope for long enough that Hope’s smile falls off of her face and an apology begins to form in her head, but before Hope can say a word:</p><p> </p><p>“We got into an argument on the trip.” Her voice is unsteady, wobbling. “We all went out to dinner one night and things were fine, up until we got done eating and we had to pay. My dad’s card got declined, which is fine. Really. It’s happened before, but this time he’d already had more than a few drinks. He wouldn’t let Mom pay, though she offered to, and he kept yelling a bunch of nonsense about being the <em>man of the house.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Josie makes air quotes, frowning bitterly at this part of her memory.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess he’d had more to drink than any of us thought he did. We got back to the hotel after a while and he, uh, let some <em>stuff</em> slip. Apparently, my parents never expected twins — they only wanted Lizzie — and having to raise two children instead of one ruined him. He blamed it all on me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jo, you know that’s not true.” Hope protests, as soon as she’s done talking. She can’t stand the idea of anyone insulting Josie, especially Alaric. “You’re not responsible for any of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking it’s true and hating me because of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie smiles weakly. “You always sound so sure of these things. How do you know everything is going to be alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Hope can see bits and pieces of Josie laid out on the floor, bare for her to see, like a window had shattered and yet let in no light. She desperately wants to be able to push those pieces back together.</p><p> </p><p>Despite Josie accepting her apology, Hope’s guilt still remains. This partially feels like her fault. If she had been there for Josie during the summer, they could have talked about this earlier.</p><p> </p><p>When did this happen? Weeks ago? And where was Hope? Spending time with Landon? Acting like yet another person who won’t put Josie first?</p><p> </p><p>She feels sick.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ve got your good luck charm.” Hope reaches out and taps her fingers delicately over the talisman, which lays on Josie’s chest, right above her heart. “And, for what it’s worth, you’ve always got a home here with me.”</p><p> </p><p>She presses her fingers in with a bit more force, hoping Josie will get the message, the promise.</p><p> </p><p>Hope will <em>never</em> abandon Josie again.</p><p> </p><p>Josie nods, smiling — completely and fully, this time. “Thank you, Hope.”</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>“Ah!” Hope yelps as something flies at her face, hitting her right in the eye. “What the hell?”</p><p> </p><p>Through slightly blurry vision, she sees a crowd of boys scramble away from her, splitting up into smaller groups and scattering into the school. She kicks the frisbee on the floor angrily. Stupid frisbee. Hope bends down to grab her fallen earbuds from the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Someone rests a hand on her shoulder, and she is prepared to shove them off and snap at the person to never put their hands on her, but—</p><p> </p><p>“What’d the frisbee ever do to you?”</p><p> </p><p>Oh. It’s Josie.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Jo.” Hope squints to see her. She’s barely able to make out Josie’s slim form, the cropped top that she’s wearing exposing a bit of her stomach. “For your information, it attacked me.”</p><p> </p><p>“It attacked you? It’s an inanimate object.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well. It hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me see.” Josie laughs good-naturedly, a mix of concern and amusement.</p><p> </p><p>Warm fingers prod gently at the skin around her eye, carefully inspecting for any damage. Hope can feel her presence, barely an inch away. She squirms slightly, feeling vulnerable under Josie’s intense examination.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you’re okay.” Josie drops her hand. A chill rolls over the spot where it once was.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Hope says softly and Josie smiles in return. Her cheeks are rosy from the morning’s cold weather, the blotches of pink matching her lips.</p><p> </p><p>Josie looks brand new.</p><p> </p><p>All of her clothes are unblemished and distinctly unwrinkled in a way that suggests she has never worn them before. Hope guesses these are the clothes that she got in Europe.</p><p> </p><p>“You look nice today.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie grins, bouncing up on her heels. “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>She does a cute little twirl, the fabric rising on her thighs, and Hope’s mind briefly jumps back to the afternoon they spent sunbathing on the dock together. Hope forces the memory away. A shiver racks her body — she mistakes it for the cold. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, want to go get coffee before class?” Hope suggests and Josie nods. They walk side by side into the school.</p><p> </p><p>“What were you listening to?” Josie taps the stray earbud dangling by Hope’s ear.</p><p> </p><p>Hope hesitates. “Alanis Morissette.”</p><p> </p><p>“Rad.” She grins. “I knew you would like her.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Rad?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t tease.” Josie pushes open the cafeteria door and holds it open for Hope. She jabs Hope teasingly in the side as they walk. “You’re the one listening to <em>my</em> playlist. Welcome to the dark side.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>The cafeteria is more or less deserted, only a few students trudging around this early in the day. It’s a bonus that this means they don’t have to wait in line for coffee.</p><p> </p><p>A very tired-looking lunch lady hands them two steaming cups of coffee. Hope shamelessly fills hers with three packets of sugar and a load of cream, while Josie keeps hers black. They sit at an empty table, occupying the seats right beside each other.</p><p> </p><p>Hope sips her drink, the hot liquid warming her up pleasantly. She sighs. “What class do you have first?”</p><p> </p><p>“History.”</p><p> </p><p>“With your dad?” Hope frowns, not liking that idea at all. “Are you sure you should go?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t ditch class on the first week.” Josie does her worst attempt at a smile yet. Hope sees right through it. “And he’s my dad, Hope. I can’t avoid him forever. I can’t avoid him at all, actually.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I meant what I said yesterday. If you want to sleep over at my house tonight, you can.” She offers quickly.</p><p> </p><p>This suggestion seems to cheer Josie up. “Really? Could Lizzie come, too?”</p><p> </p><p>Hope only agrees because Josie turns those damn eyes on her, complete with a pout. She’s saying yes before even considering it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what you thought, comments are always appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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